THIRTY

Abby couldn't contain the smile on her face as she walked towards the elevator. Her heart was still racing from the encounter with Leo at the cafeteria. She pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive.

Abby waited impatiently as the elevator doors slide shut, enclosing her in a small, metallic box. She pressed the button for the floor she needed. She leaned against the wall of the elevator, still lost in her thoughts of Leo. And just as the elevator came to life with a low hum

Suddenly, the doors started to close, but just as they were about to shut, someone stepped inside.

It was Ace, the second boss. Abby quickly straightened up and bowed slightly in respect. "Good afternoon, sir," she greeted him.

Ace nodded in acknowledgement, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

As the elevator started to ascend, they felt a slight pressure in their ears. She absentmindedly watched the numbers on the display change rapidly. As the elevator continued to rise, there was a subtle vibration under their feet.

Ace cleared his throat slightly, breaking the silence.

“Coming, from the cafeteria?”

Abby consciously sniffed herself, wondering if she was reeking of food smell which made Ace guess where she was coming from.

“Yes.”

"And Lyra not with you today? You two are usually together."

Abby's heart sank a little at the mention of Lyra. She cleared her throat and replied,

"No, sir. Lyra was in an accident and didn't come into work today."

Ace's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "An accident? Is she okay?"

Abby quickly reassured him, "Yes, sir. I went to see her this morning and she's okay. Just a little shaken up."

Ace nodded and then the elevator fell into a silence as they both waited for their respective floors. Ace was the first to exit.

She couldn't shake off the weird feeling of Ace asking about Lyra and her whereabouts. As she took a step forward, she casually wondered how Ace knew her and Lyra always went to the cafeteria together.

"Stalker much?"

Abby's thoughts were interrupted by the soft ding of the elevator as it reached her floor. She stepped out and heads towards her office.

As she walked through the hallway, she felt a slight vibration in the pocket of her skirt. She reached in and pulled out her phone, glancing at the screen to see who the message was from.

The vibration continued as she unlocked her phone and saw that it was a text message from someone. The sound of the buzzing and the feeling of the phone in her hand were familiar to Abby, and she quickly read the message.

"Meet up today?"

Abby rolled her eyes and slipped her phone back into her pocket and continued down the hallway. The sound of her footsteps echoed on the tile floor, and she could hear the distant hum of voices and the tapping of computer keys.

As The vibration in her pocket continued as she walked, a constant reminder of the message waiting for her. It was a familiar sound that she had grown accustomed to over the years, but one that still caused a small jolt of annoyance each time.

****

The man in his fifties sat in his large, leather swivel chair, impatiently tapping his hands on the dark wooden desk in front of him. He glanced at his watch and then back to the door, his frustration mounting. The room was well-lit, with fluorescent overhead lights illuminating every corner. The walls were painted a dull beige color and adorned with various awards and accolades.

Suddenly, the door opened and a younger man walked in, bowing in greeting. The man in the chair raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Anything?" he asked, his tone brusque.

The younger man hesitated for a moment before responding. "The message has been delivered, but it seems she's not responding to it."

The man in the chair leaned back in his seat, his tapping slowing. "Why? Did you tell her what's happening?"

The younger man shook his head. "No, sir. I believe she might have suspected what the meeting is for."

The man in the chair grunted in acknowledgment. "No problem, you may leave."

The younger man bowed and backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

The man in the chair leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. He let out a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his thinning hair, frustration etched on his face.

The room was well-furnished, with a large bookshelf lining one wall, a plush couch in the corner, and a small fridge and coffee maker on a table against the opposite wall. The air was cool and crisp, thanks to the air conditioning humming quietly in the background.

The walls were painted in a soft shade of beige, and there were a few pieces of abstract art hanging on them. A large wooden desk occupied the center of the room, with a black leather chair behind it. The man sitting at the desk had a few papers and a laptop open in front of him.

On the opposite side of the room, there was a smaller desk with a few chairs around it. A vase with fresh flowers stood on one of the corners of the desk, adding a touch of color to the otherwise monochromatic decor. There were a few bookshelves lining the walls, filled with thick volumes of law books and other reference materials. The floors were made of a polished dark wood, and a plush rug in the center of the room added some texture.

There were a few potted plants scattered around the room, adding a touch of greenery and life. The office was tidy, with everything in its place, giving off a professional and organized vibe. The air was cool and fresh, thanks to the air conditioning system, and the scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air.

The man in the chair leaned back once more, closing his eyes briefly. He knew he had to be patient, but waiting for the response he needed was testing his nerves.

After a few moments, he stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city below. The view was breathtaking, with tall skyscrapers and bustling streets stretching as far as the eye could see. But he couldn't focus on it now; his mind was too preoccupied with the task at hand.

He turned away from the window and walked back to his desk, tapping his fingers once again. He knew he had to wait, but he couldn't help feeling restless and uneasy.

The room was silent, save for the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the occasional sound of papers rustling on the desk. The man in the chair closed his eyes again, trying to calm his nerves and wait for the response he needed.